Hermione's Short Shorts!
by Saoirse Driscoll
Summary: A series of short stories/drabbles in which we watch the world of witches and wizards. Though the main character is Hermione, not all chapters/submissions will be about her.
1. Author's Note: Explanation

Title: Hermione's Short Shorts

Title: Hermione's Short Shorts!

Pairings: Various within the Harry Potter world.

Overview: A series of short stories/drabbles in which we watch the world of witches and wizards. Though the main character is Hermione, not all chapters/submissions will be about her.

Disclaimer: All rights reserved for J. K. Rowling.

Explanation – A Short Note

Alright, I have been reading Dramione fiction for ages, and I do enjoy it a lot. I have favoured pairings, favoured plot lines, etc, etc. So, I figured that I might as well start writing my own works on my preferences.

However, before I begin, I feel I should explain the nature of this fic.

**No**, everything is not together. On occasion, things may link, but I will **state** that the chapter is linked to a previous chapter, or even that the chapter I am working on is/may be linked to a subsequent chapter.

**No**, this is not all happening in the same reality! To explain what I know of the realm of Harry Potter, I feel that I should let you know that I **have not**, and **will not** be reading the seventh book. I am sure there are many individuals who enjoyed that book, but I cannot be brought to so much as open it past the page before the title page. Rowling is a fantastic author, I applaud her for coming up with an idea which incorporates both new and old aspects into it, however, I feel that there was so much more she could have done. This is merely my opinion, you do not have to agree, or even disagree with it. I am putting this out here now so that you know that I **will not** necessarily be cannon to the novels. I will most definitely not be cannon to the final book.

In addition, I wish you to know that pairings of couples will switch as according to my mood and what I feel like the day in which I get an idea.

Not all of the chapters/submissions will be featuring Hermione Granger. As she is (one of) my favourite characters (in the books, movies, and on fan fiction) I will be focusing on her for most submissions, however, it will not always be from her point of view. I want you to know this now before people get confused. I may before hand clarify who's point of view I will be featuring in each submission, however, this may not always be the case.

Submissions will be as long or short as my idea can make them. This is a stress relief, getting away from my rather epic Pirates of the Caribbean fiction which is eating my soul at this moment in time. And is causing me to obsess over fan fiction more than a normal person should.

Whoever said I was normal though.

To continue, I am interested in input from any readers, if you would like to request a theme, character pairing, etc, I will oblige as I can, however, do not expect miracles. If I do not like or approve of the pairing, I will not be writing about it, no matter how much you beg. As such, I will note I am fairly open to most ideas, have no (real) issues with slash, but I will not be producing any lemons (probably) in this series.

The rating results from the fact that I feel the need to attempt differing styles of writing with various levels of gore, blood, obscenities, and other fun things.

There will be fluff, I may kill people in some submissions, and there will be abuse, chaos, destruction, whatever I feel like. This is an experiment, and shall be fun.

However, in this genre, I will be focusing more so on my other story which I will begin posting later on.

Thanks for your understanding.

Saoirse.


	2. Silencio

Title: Hermione's Short Shorts!

Pairings: Various within the Harry Potter world.

Overview: A series of short stories/drabbles in which we watch the world of witches and wizards. Though the main character is Hermione, not all chapters/submissions will be about her.

Disclaimer: Though I may want it, it is not mine. –tears-

**S****ilencio**

Pairing: Draco/Hermione, Harry/Ginny

* * *

He had done it yet again. Said something highly inappropriate, highly annoying, and had insulted her. She honestly didn't know why she bothered with him anymore. Almost nothing held them together anymore. Harry did try, but he was still a guy, and when times came to it, he more often than not chose Ron's side. Ginny was helpful too… except for three facts – one, she was barely ever around, two, she was dating Harry, and three, her brother was the git extrodinaire. This left the girl rather biased in Hermione's view.

So, Hermione did what she always did – she left the Gryffindor common room, on some excuse of homework, or head duties – yes, that's right, she was given the honour of head girl. However, her excitement over this honour was marginally decreased by the individual she had to share the position with – the one, the only, Draco Malfoy.

Last she heard from him, he was planning on spending the evening with one of his 'female friends'. Hermione had rolled her eyes, and bit her tongue to spare him the lecture which would eventually lead to a shouting match. They had several dozen in the first two weeks – more fights than there were days. After a long discussion with both Professor McGonnagol and Professor Dumbledore, the two warring heads had come to an uneasy truce. It was little more than a 'you don't cross this line, and I won't bother you' sort of thing, but it worked. And there was peace. However, working together on any project was nearly disastrous. The professors gave an ultimatum, stating that unless the two of them worked together for house unity, they two of them would be removed from their positions in a form of public humiliation.

After that, they worked together much better. The non-existent relationship between them became more awkward than before as well.

Hermione tried not to focus on it though. It was simply easier not the think of the immature little boy that she had to share a common room with. The arrangements for the heads was something which irked her incredibly. She would've complained, had the professors not already spoken to the two of them on tolerating each other already.

She sighed, her walking pace slowing slightly. She was a floor above her current habitation, and was not looking forward to getting back there. It was a nice enough room – opulent, luxurious, however, it was too much. It lacked human comfort – there was no cheer, no friendly faces, no people to talk to. They weren't even allowed visitors except during the weekends, and even then only until dinner. The strict policy was of course due to the interactions and rather loud explosions from the two heads.

Hermione shook her head – she knew it was her own fault. However, she felt that perhaps the professors might be going a bit over the top in their justice and solutions. She did know that Professor Snape particularly hated her this year. No doubt Malfoy's fault.

She had reached the portrait hole – it was rather subtle, to most students. Hermione had recognized it immediately. It was the original Hogwart's crest, not the current one. She had loved its appearance, saw it in Hogwarts: A History. She whispered the password – et nauseum – and walked into her room. By this point in time, she seemed relatively calm on the exterior. However, inside she was screaming.

And the bane of her existance was sitting comfortably on one of the red couches.

She nearly swore aloud as he looked up at her.

"Muddy." He spoke apathetically, nearly ignoring her in preference to a newspaper.

"Malferret." She responded with disdain, sweeping up to the stairs.

He smirked. "What, no comment on how I should get better insults?"

"It would be a waste of my time, especially on a troglodyte like you." Before he could speak, she closed the door to her room with a slam.

Once inside, Hermione looked over her immaculate bedroom. A frustrated sigh escaped her lips, and she walked to the middle of the room. Turning to look at the door, she cast the silencing spell on the entire room.

She picked up a glass vase that she had brought from home. With a scream, she threw against the wall.

In the main room, Draco winced, and looked at the closed door to her room. "Wonder what Weasleby did this time…" He looked back down at his paper, seeming unconcerned.

A few moments later, he could hear several loud shrieks punctuated by loud sounds, like objects where hitting the wall. Relatively unfazed, Draco waited to see if any new sounds would appear.

Right on cue, he heard her crying. It started softly, but it grew in pitch until he couldn't stand it. Standing up decisively, he walked up the stairs, and gently knocked on the door to her room.

A pause. The door opened a crack, revealing one reddened eye.

Draco spoke neutrally, with barely any emotion. "Listen, Granger. I don't know what your idiot friends did to upset you this time, but I really think you ought to go deal with your problems instead of skulking around here, throwing a temper tantrum."

She glared at him. "What are you talking about?"

"The silencing spell I'm sure you used doesn't work in these rooms." He elaborated, his face showing no malice or anger. Her eyes widened comically, and Draco would've laughed if it had not been Granger, and the situation had not been so serious. The door opened fully, revealing a rather dishevelled witch standing in the doorway.

"You mean…" She trailed off,  
"Yes, I've heard you every time. And I think it's high time you deal with it. Or I'll go talk to them."

She looked at her enemy, completely confused. "Why would you do something like that."

"First of all, I dislike having loud, distraught women around me."

Hermione bit her tongue, wanting to mention something about Pansy. Draco however recognized her expression.  
"Pansy is a bit of a different story, but that has nothing to do with this. To continue, I also cannot deal with you when you are in those types of moods. And, in addition, I doubt you like it very much."

"That's neither here nor there Malfoy. I can't simply go up to them and say that they're being jerks!"

"I can. So, deal with it. Or I will."

He smirked, then walked off, disappearing behind his door, leaving a stunned Gryffindor in his wake.

* * *

Review please!


	3. Skillful Knowledge Part One

Title: Hermione's Short Shorts

Title: Hermione's Short Shorts!

Pairings: Various within the Harry Potter world.

Overview: A series of short stories/drabbles in which we watch the world of witches and wizards. Though the main character is Hermione, not all chapters/submissions will be about her.

Disclaimer: I'm too poor to own this.

**Skillful Knowledge**

**Part One – Changes and Arrival**

Pairings: Draco/Pansy, Harry/Pansy, Draco/Hermione

* * *

She once had a nice job at the Ministry. The pay was a paltry sum as compared to the hours she put in, but it was enough. She actually did things that mattered – she was helping to re-write laws regarding the treatment of muggleborns, and magical creatures. The ones used currently were positively archaic.

That all changed on windy November day.

The Minister for Magic called Hermione to his office, said that it was urgent. So, like a good employee, she left her tiny office – no larger than a broom closet, and in fact, in some cases it was smaller than the broom closet – and went into the gilded elevator which would take her to his office.

After the fall of Voldemort and his Death Eaters, there had been three elections for the position of Minister for Magic, all within a five-year period. The current Minister was a relatively unknown (and quite good-looking) wizard from Perth by the name of Arthur McTavish. He had won the election by a landslide, due to his charm, charisma, and good looks too. In addition, Hermione had to admit he had some good ideas. But she didn't vote for him.

She walked to the desk of the minister's secretary, Anna.

"Oh, hello Hermione. Minister McTavish is waiting for you. Go right on in."

"Thank you Anna." She smiled at the auburn haired woman who sat at the desk, arranging various folders and papers.

Without further delay, Hermione gently knocked on the door to the minister's office, then opened it, walking in. There was another gentleman in the room. He was dressed in a dark suit, with platinum blond hair. She didn't spare him a glance.  
"Yes Minister? You asked to see me?" She stopped several feet away from the gentleman in the chair, and even further back from the desk.  
"Ah, yes, Hermione. I have received a rather interesting proposal regarding your employment here at the Ministry."

Hermione looked at him suspiciously. "What do you mean Minister?"

The Minister seemed to be struggling with what to say. "Well, you see Hermione, Mr. Malfoy here would like… It's not due to any work… And certainly not because of you… er, perhaps it is best that you explain Mr. Malfoy?"

"Certainly Minister." How she hated the smooth and refined method of speaking he held. "Ms. Granger, I hereby insist that you assist me in educating my children."

She gaped at Draco. "Surely you're not serious?" She turned to the Minister. "Sir, he can't just tell me to –"  
"I'm sorry Hermione, there's nothing that I can really do." The Minister wouldn't meet her eyes.  
"You can't simply do this. It's against so many laws!"

"Granger. This is the way it must be."

She glared at Draco, and was very tempted to tell him to stuff it where the sun don't shine. Taking a deep breath, she refrained. "Listen to me, Mister Malfoy. You cannot simply come into an establishment and commandeer their employees!"

"Actually, I'm afraid that in this case he can. Mr. Malfoy, a minute if you please?"

"Certainly Minister. I'll wait in the hall for you Granger." The smirk on his face was sickening. Hermione waited for the door to shut before she pinned the Minister with her glare.  
"Listen to me Minister McTavish, you cannot do that! Regardless of how much he bribed you with! It's illegal, and the Wizzengott wouldn't stand for it!" She was gesticulating violently, making the Minister cringe, and fear for the safety of his eyes.

"Hermione, it's not a permanent change. You have to understand, unless we receive the 'donations' from the Malfoys, the Ministry wouldn't function!"

She paused, and stood back. "Not permanent."

He sighed, relieved. "Yes Hermione, it won't be for long. He's borrowing you for a short period, just to get his children up to speed before they head to a private school."

She seemed to be considering it. "Short period hm? And would I still be allowed to get assignments from here?"

"He said he would allow you to work on other tasks from the Ministry, provided of course that they do not interfere with your teaching."

She gave him a glare. "And you claim this is the only way to keep him appeased?" As the Minister nodded energetically, her gaze narrowed. "Why did he insist on me?"

"Er, you would have to ask him. Shall I make the transfer?"

She sighed. "There's nothing which I can say which would dissuade you or him, so, yes."

"Oh, thank you Hermione!" He grinned until she held up a hand to stay him.

"Don't thank me yet. I may just have to kill him." She left the Minister standing at his desk, shock on his face.

Malfoy was indeed waiting for her in the hallway, chatting amicably to Anna. He stood up when he saw her come out of the Minister's office.  
"Ah, there you are Granger. What took the time?"

She glared at him, animosity in her tone when she spoke. "I left my things in my office."

He waved his hand carelessly. "Don't worry about it, I sent someone to collect them. And the things from your hovel you call a flat. That doesn't answer my question though." He had grabbed her elbow, in a rather painfully tight grasp, and was steering her to a fireplace.

"I don't see why it would be significant Malfoy. After all, you got what you wanted." She tried to remove her elbow from his grasp to no avail.

"Don't make assumptions Granger." He held onto her tighter, stopping in front of a fireplace. "Come. We are going to the Malfoy Manor. You first." He handed her some floo powder.

She gently rubbed her elbow, glaring daggers the entire time. She dropped the floo powder, then clipped out, "Malfoy Manor." The familiar whirling sensation came over her as she was transported to another location in the span of seconds.

Stumbling out of the fireplace, she took a moment to look around. The room she had been transported to was expansive, perhaps a drawing room. She heard Draco arrive moments after she did.

"Come. You'll have time for gawking later. Let me show you to your rooms." Not waiting for her answer, he headed out of the room. She had to rush to keep up with his lengthy and quick strides. The Manor was huge. She could barely keep track of where she was going, and she was sure that if Malfoy hadn't been there, she would have gotten lost. Several times over.

He finally stopped at a door that looked like all the rest, and Hermione was feeling slightly faint. He opened the door. "This is your room. There is an attached washroom. I am in the last room of this hallway – however, do not bother me for no reason. You will have a house elf to assist you, and you have no choice regarding that one until you are more familiar with the Manor. I may allow you to dispute this later. Your things are already here, please look around and get yourself settled. If you need anything, request Amile to come – that's the name of your elf. You will be beginning your work tomorrow, I will speak to you further later tonight." Wasting no time, he turned away and left Hermione standing at the door of her room.

With an aggravated sigh, she walked into her rather large room. It was a realtively simple affair – for the Malfoy Manor that is. There was a four poster bed, probably a queen size, situated against the middle of the wall. A desk was placed beside the window, which was across from the door she was standing in front of. The wall opposing the bed had two doors, one she suspected led to a closet, and the other to the bathroom. There was also a small nook, which appeared to have a chair, and a lamp, though she couldn't be sure from this angle. However, the most important aspect of this room was glossed over in her initial inspection. There were bookshelves everywhere. Nearly on every available wall space were shelves upon shelves of books, ancient tomes, tiny novelettes, texts, glossy and new books… her mind boggled over the sheer price of that kind of a collect.

_And they probably have library too, maybe more than one._

She ran her fingers over the covers, and looked to see her papers and books placed on the desk, but nothing else she owned. She groaned. This whole situation was ridiculous. It wasn't even noon yet! She hadn't expected any of this when she woke up this morning. She rubbed her temples wearily, and sat down on the bed. She looked around her room, and accounted for most of her belongings. Curious, she stood up, and walked to the room she suspected was the closet. Opening the door carefully, she discovered an entire other room. For clothes. And it was mostly empty too. The few clothes she owned made the room seem empty. Embarrassed, she shut the door, then walked to see what the bathroom was like.

She was pleased to discover that it was almost twice the size of the closet, and half the size of her room. It was creamy off white, with honey brown tiles set in the floor. A huge spa bath was the focal point of the room, with an expansive counter opposite to it. Beside the bath was a small shower enclosure, and silvery towel rails. The toilet was the same colour as the walls, as was the fuzzy bath mat on the floor. Hermione made a note not to drink red wine anywhere near that mat.

In a state of awe, she closed the door, and returned to her bed.

"Oh god… Either the Fates hate me, or adore me, but this has to be some twisted dream!"

* * *

Please review for me! More to follow in Skillful Knowledge!


	4. Skillful Knowledge Part Two

Title: Hermione's Short Shorts!

Pairings: Various within the Harry Potter world.

Overview: A series of short stories/drabbles in which we watch the world of witches and wizards. Though the main character is Hermione, not all chapters/submissions will be about her.

Disclaimer: Actually, no, it's not mine. Thanks for asking though.

Skillful Knowledge Part Two – More or Less

Pairings: Draco/Pansy, Harry/Pansy, Draco/Hermione

* * *

Amile had stopped in with food at about noon. Hermione had absent-mindedly thanked the house elf, but hadn't paid any attention to what was going on at all. The food had been left on the desk, near her papers. Two hours later, it still hadn't been touched.

Hermione had spent all her time lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling, not focussed on anything around her. She was thinking, deeply. She hadn't spent much time on reflection after the war – she hadn't been interested, because reflecting meant she'd have to acknowledge what had happened. Ron… was seeing other people. Harry and Ginny had broken up, for reasons Hermione didn't know. She spoke to neither boy anymore, and rarely to Ginny at all – Ginny had left the country, living in Australia now. The war had affected them all; in ways that no one would ever know.

And right now she was wondering how she got from Hogwarts to here.

Here wasn't the usual place for here either. Here was more in regards to the situation she currently found herself in. She looked around the room hopelessly. She had been left alone, except for the appearance of Amile.

The food was probably stone cold by now. Surprisingly, Hermione wasn't the least bit hungry either. Usually by this time, she'd be feeling faint, famished and fatigued. However, all that she was feeling now was distance. She felt as if she was out of the situation, it was as if she was out of her body, looking down at the bizarre situation playing out around her.

She figured it was because of the sudden change. Hermione Granger did not like change – things were supposed to work in a schedule. That's why she had been doing so well at Hogwarts, and so well at the Ministry. There were clear time limits, when you were supposed to be where, when you'd be done, how much work you had to do. It was easy.

This, she did not like. She was loafing around, doing nothing. She couldn't even bring herself to pick up a book to read it. She was so disinterested.

No, that wasn't true. The only real thing she was interested was why Malfoy picked her of all people. That, and what she was doing here. If he needed a tutor, he could have picked any number of people, and they wouldn't need to live at the Manor. No, there was something else going on here. Something larger than learning – _unheard of, however, there was always room for stranger things before lunch_ – larger than the feud that still lay between the two of them – _there was less and less space for strange things before lunch _– larger still perhaps than Malfoy's pride and ego – _alright, that's it, no space left at all!_ Hermione grudgingly listened to her internal monologue, and her now grumbling stomach, and walked to the desk, and tray of food, still rather listless. She collected the tray and walked back to the bed, sitting on it Indian style, with her left leg draping over the side of the bed and touching the floor. Leaving the tray sitting in front of her, she aimlessly picked at her food.

Taking a bite of the hard orange cheese – _probably cheddar_ – she looked about the room again. What was extremely peculiar about this whole situation would be how no one had come to bother her yet. Knowing Malfoy like she did, she would've assumed that he'd be breathing down her neck to make sure she wouldn't sully any of the pure belongings of his family. She shuddered to think of another generation brought up under such archaic and bigoted ideals.

Glancing out of the window, she determined that it was likely close to five, the sun was dimming, low on the horizon. Soon it would be dark. The wind whipped through the trees on the expansive grounds around the Manor, it rattled the sparse leaves that still clung to the gnarled branches, and Hermione shivered at the dreary scene. Looking back down at the tray, she saw a mug of tea. She held it in both hands, raising it to her mouth, taking a sip of the still barely warm liquid. Hermione felt as the bitter taste flowed down her throat, a comforting feeling following it. For a brief second, she felt warm again. Then it was gone, and she shivered, looking about for her jacket. It was always cold, always wet. It permeated the bones, leaving a deathly chill, a clammy feel coming with it. Placing down the tea, she stood and grabbed her jacket, throwing it on. She then picked up her tea again, and wandered to stand in front of the mirror in the bathroom. To her own eyes, Hermione felt she looked lifeless, the sparkle was gone from her worn and aged eyes. She looked haunted. Her hair matched her general apathy, so she always kept it up. Her skin was pale, near gaunt, telling how she nearly refused to eat, putting in ridiculous hours at the Ministry. _It isn't really living… it's not life at all. _Angrily, she moved to the window, staring out at nothing at all. It had gotten darker since she last looked out, and she could see tiny flecks of snow on the breeze. It wouldn't last, it never did. Snow before January was near unheard of in England.

There was a noise behind her, and she turned to see the door open. Malfoy stood in the doorway. She vaguely nodded at him before turning back to look out at the grounds.

"Enjoying the view?" His voice was quiet, and held no audible malice.

Hermione shrugged, not wanting to get tangled up in whatever plot he was scheming. She could hear his footfalls as he moved closer to her. A clattering noise of metal on porcelain, and he spoke again.

"Not hungry?"

Courtesy demanded she reply. "No, not particularly." She muttered toward the window, not wishing to look at him. She knew in her gut that he was up to something, and she would not like it.

He was standing a few feet behind her, she could practically feel him. Question bubbled their way to the surface of her mind, an insistent buzzing confusion, insisting to be asked. She ignored them, as she ignored him. He sighed.

"Listen Granger, I understand I've upset your perfect life," the sarcasm was audible in that little jab, "but I have need for your particular skills, and your particular connections."

She turned, confused, to see an absence of the usual smirk on his face. He was completely serious. "What do you mean?" She inquired, rubbing a hand against the smooth surface of the mug.

He looked away from her, taking his turn to stare out the window. "I have suspicions. And usually I'd deal with them on my own, but the straightforward approach isn't working as I'd hoped it would. I don't know the people in order to get what I want to know, and she wouldn't tell me if that was so, she wouldn't answer me seriously."

Hermione felt a glimmer of sympathy for the man who had long been her enemy. She quickly squashed it, not wanting for her empathy to make her weak. People like Malfoy relied on that so they could use people like her. She didn't speak, letting Malfoy continue his tirade.

"I know there's something she's hiding. No one in either of our families have green eyes. She's always out at some function or another, not like I miss her misshapen face, but I'm sure the children mind. Usually I'd not include outsiders, especially not ones like you… but she's acting so oddly. So… off. She says things that make no sense, things that she's never thought before."

"**Who** are you _talking_ about Malfoy?" Hermione interjected rudely, finally having enough with the vague nature of his rant.

He glared at her, making her cringe. He stared at her for a full half minute, before saying in the most contemptuous tone she had ever heard; "Pansy, who do you think?"

"I couldn't tell, otherwise I wouldn't ask." She spat out bitterly, moving to the desk to set her tea down. "I'm not helping you, regardless of what you want." She announced to the wall.

She could feel the power of his glare on her even though she wasn't looking at him. "You don't have a choice." His response was final.

"You can't hold me here." She turned to face him, eyes defiant.

"No one would stop me." He smirked, looking at his fingernails. "I did some checking up on you before I came to remove you from your job. Even if you are an exceptional asset to the Ministry, my funding is worth more than all you have ever done. No one cares about you – both of your parents are dead, you have no friends, **you** don't do anything but work. You have no life, nothing here but commitments and responsibilities. I always said it would happen, but I never thought it would be so soon." Draco gloated.

His words stung, more than they should have. _It's because you know he's right._ The inner voice whispered, and she ignored it deftly. "It's none of your concern what I do with my life. I'm not **helping** you." She tried to make the tears leave her eyes before the fell. She would not on her life have Draco Malfoy witness her cry. Not now, not ever.

"What do you have to loose in helping me?" He challenged.

"What do you have to gain?" She threw back at him.

He paused. "The truth. Weren't you always the defender of truth and justice, you as one of the Golden Trio?"

"Times change." She glared at him.

"Everything's the same. We're just a bit older."

The grimace on her lips turned to a snarl. "Then why me? If I'm just some intolerable mudblood, why do you keep me here?"

Draco had moved closer to Hermione, a few steps away from her now. "I told you why, you know people. You can find me the answers I need."

"I'm not some reference book you can pick off the shelf and then put down again when you're done. It doesn't work that way Malfoy." Hermione fussed with the necklace around her neck. Malfoy stayed her hand with his own.

"Look at me." His voice was controlling, without question she did as she was bid, looking up at his face. He was tall, taller than she remembered him to be. His grey eyes were severe, but didn't hold any loathing in them like she was used to. His eyes were just as tired as her own. "If there was another way, I'd take it. If there was another path, I'd find the way. But there isn't, so I can't. You're my only option right now. I need you to find out if these two children I have are my own, or if they belong to another man."

"Find it out on your own." She pulled away from him, knocking into the desk, and nearly falling over. Malfoy chuckled at her clumsiness, but quickly became serious again.

"Hermione –"

"It's Granger to you." She glared acidly at him, righting herself. He moved closer to her, effectively pinning her between him and the desk – the proverbial rock and a hard place.

"Fine then Granger," the emphasis on her last name wasn't lost on her either, "stop being so stubborn woman. Eventually you'll bow to my whim, and you know you will."

She snorted in disgust. "The day I bow to your whim, as you so kindly put it, is the day I give up on elf rights." Hermione rolled her eyes. "Look, if this is all you wanted, you could kindly leave if you'll not be letting me go back to my flat."

Malfoy raised a perfect eyebrow, his tone dangerous. "Just because I let you use these rooms does not mean you can presume to kick me out of them. This is my home."

"I'm quite well aware of that Malfoy!" She grumbled at him, extremely frustrated. "Would you move yourself **away** from me?!" She tried to push him off of her, only to find that he was like a lead weight.

"Oh, is my presence making you uncomfortable muddy?" He chuckled, moving closer still to her trapped body, eliminating any escape routes she may have had.

"Yes, it is, so move yourself, or you'll be in a lot of pain!" She crossed her arms over her chest, glaring up at Malfoy.

He laughed. "Don't threaten me Granger. I currently hold your wellbeing in my hand." Abruptly, he moved away from her, walking to the door. "I expect to find you willing to assist me tomorrow. I will send Amile in to wake you so you may tutor the children. Good night." The door shut with a click behind him as he left.

* * *

The next morning, bright and early, Hermione felt something gently prodding her. "Wake up now Miss. Master Malfoy says you must be up."

Groggily, Hermione rolled over to see Amile shaking her arm. "Wha-? What **time** is it?" She blinked in the half dark of her room.

"Very near six Miss. Please get up now Miss. Master Malfoy is expecting you to be presentable for seven Miss." Came the squeaky reply.

Hermione sighed, and gently pushed Amile away. "Alright, alright, I'm up. Shoo please." Amile disappeared, and Hermione swung her feet out of bed. Stifling a yawn, she padded over to the bathroom, cursing annoying pureblood gits who thought they had the right to commandeer people from their respectable jobs. Hopping into the shower, she let the warm water ease her worries away.

After her shower, feeling much refreshed, Hermione carefully brushed her hair in front of the mirror, holding a soft cream towel around her. After subduing her hair to her liking, Hermione went to the closet and pulled out one of her work outfits. Letting out another long sigh, she pulled on a blouse, suit jacket and pants. Inspecting herself in the mirror one last time, she walked to the door of her room. With a pop, Amile appeared in front of her.

"Come now please Miss, Master Malfoy is waiting for you Miss." The tiny elf reached up to turn the brassy knob to Hermione's room, and led the neat witch down the hallway, towards two imposing mahogany doors. With scant time to admire her surroundings, Hermione was lead directly into the room, the massive wooden doors shutting softly behind her. In front of her was an oversized red cherry table, adorned with simple white linen, and four chairs. At the far end of the room, by the grand floor length windows, sat Draco Malfoy, sipping coffee out of a porcelain cup, and reading the Daily Prophet.

"Ah, there you are Miss Granger. I trust you slept well?"

"Not at all." She responded to his jovial and neutral tone with scorn and disgust.

"No matter." He folded his newspaper, and fixed her with such a stare as to inform a naughty student that they must behave. "My children will be up shortly, approximately eight, and will be quite eager to meet you." The unspoken 'don't disappoint them' hung clearly in the charged air between them.

"Very well." She hissed, being the first to break the stare between the two of them. "I trust I can find food, or do you wish me to starve?"

He laughed bitterly. "Don't be preposterous. Of course you'll eat, otherwise you won't be able to teach Miss Granger. I'll not be having such melodrama around my children, so cease this juvenile behaviour at once."

Hermione was immediately brought back to when she had been scolded at Hogwarts by McGonagal or Dumbledore. She fought the urge to look at her feet when she saw Pansy waltz into the room.

"Pookie! Good morning! I'm off with the giiiirls to go to Paris! Shopping, I do hope you don't mind." Her nasally whine, and shrill girly giggle made Hermione wince. "Oh, ew. Did someone forget to take out the trash, or are we doing some kind of charity for the tragically fashion handicapped that I wasn't told about hunny-buns?" Pansy's pug-nose scrunched up at the sight of Hermione.

"No, dearheart," he sighed, having difficultly keeping his tone pleasant. "She's here to teach the children. Why don't you head out? Have fun in Paris with your girls." Malfoy waved her away as Pansy flounced out of the room, with one last scathing look toward Hermione.

Not trusting herself to speak, Hermione scratched the back of her neck, not making eye-contact with a very uncomfortable Draco. A long pause, and then, "Um, you say I have no life, and you married _**that**_?"

He growled.

* * *

Late in the afternoon, Hermione looked out at the window while Draco's **obedient** children wrote down in there notebooks the basics of read and writing. She was shocked to see how well behaved spawn of Malfoy were. Very polite, paid full attention when she was talking, rarely spoke back… yet she did notice something odd about them. Like Draco had said, they looked somewhat similar to their mother, but nothing like their father. The girl, the elder at six, Cissica or Cici as she preferred to be called, had black hair like her mother, but piercing green eyes, and a slightly round face. As for the boy, Lucian, his hair was black as well, and his eyes blue, but the hair… unkept, and all over the place. And how he was built… gangly and thin, even for his young age of four. It reminded Hermione more of a very young Harry Potter than some child of Draco and Pansy Malfoy. Shaking her head, Hermione checked over their work as the door opened very quietly to show Draco Malfoy watching in his business suit.

"Very good work Cici, excellent effort Lucian. I think your father's here to see you now, we're all done for today." She smiled pleasantly the see the glee on their faces when the sprang up to run to their father. He nodded over their heads at Hermione, who stood up and brushed off her navy pants. Going through the other door she had been shown at the beginning of the day, she slipped from the room, and waited in the corridor for Malfoy, as he had 'requested'.

Moments later he arrived, sans the rugrats. "And?"

"Alright, I'm curious. But only this one thing, and nothing else!" She pointed her index finger towards his nose as he smirked, holding up his hands in placation.

* * *

The next few weeks followed in kind, with Hermione rising early to prepare to teach the children everything from reading to simple math (wizard type of course – plus some muggle stuff just for fun) to basic geography and history of both muggles and wizards. In the afternoons, she'd snoop around the house, picking up on the basic floor plan fairly quickly. Though it seemed complicated, it was actually quite simple, and repetitive. She learned her way around well enough to find Pansy's room, which was surprisingly separate from Draco's. So far separate in fact, they were at opposite wings of the house. Not like it seemed to matter to Draco, or the children even. Every morning, when Hermione arrived to eat, Pansy would be going, leaving some jab about Hermione's plain appearance in her wake. Through trial and error, Hermione found the best way to deal with this was to say a pleasant, "Good morning Missus Malfoy" as Pansy disappeared out the door. And every day, Pansy's scowl would deepen and deepen, as Malfoy would stifle a chuckle into his coffee mug.

One afternoon, while Hermione was rummaging through drawers in Pansy's room, she found an interesting little box. It was wooden, dark brown, and quite light. Curious, Hermione waved her wand over it, to find it had a relatively simple locking mechanism to it. With a word, it sprang open, showing dozens of opened letters on yellowing parchment. Hermione hesitantly placed the box down on the top of the dresser, and pulled out the neatly folded pieces of paper. Sitting down on the white stool in front of the dresser, she smoothed out the papers in front of her. A scrawl of black ink coated the page, messy but fairly legible correspondence between Pansy and some secret lover. Hermione had a nagging feeling that the style of writing should be very familiar to her, but she couldn't place where from. She heard the door crack open, and jumped, startled. Luckily, it was Draco. She hastily tried to hide the box and letters, but he had already seen them.

"So what have you found here?" He moved over to her, and raised an eyebrow. "And how **did** you manage to find my wife's room?"

Hermione shrugged. "Just resourceful I guess?" She played with a loose strand of hair, gradually shifting around Draco to reach the door.

She paused when he growled, and threw down the papers. He grabbed her arm painfully. "I expect you to find out who these are from Granger." Malfoy threw her arm down, and stalked from the room, visage full of rage.

Hermione gulped, and spoke a charm to replicate all of the letters. Putting those away in her pockets, she then carefully placed the letters back as she found them in the box, and placed the box back in the dresser, locked and secure once more. Soundlessly, she left the room, shutting the door behind her.

On the way back to her room at the other end of the house, by the front foyer, Hermione had the misfortune to run into a rather irate Pansy Malfoy, who quickly invaded Hermione's personal space.

"Look, I don't know what you're doing here mudblood, but don't think that-"

"I'm here to teach your _children_, **Missus** Malfoy." Hermione adeptly side stepped the shorter woman, concentrating on moving further down the hallway.

Pansy grabbed the back of Hermione's jacket. "Oi, listen here you lowlife! Just because my husband hired you to teach my children doesn't mean you get to be putting on airs in my own house!"

Hermione quickly adopted a very fake smile, and turned to face the most vile female. "Last I checked Pansy, dear, this would be the **Malfoy** Manor. If you don't mind, I have to be getting to my room. Thank you, and good day." The sweetly polite tone she was using could cut diamonds.

Pansy huffed. "I'm not done with you mudblood! You don't just get to walk away from me!"

"You've been using that insult since you were, what, eleven? Goodness, I thought that at the very least you would've grown up a little, even if your intelligence hasn't grown one wit." She unhooked Pansy's hand from where it clasped her jacket. "Plus I wouldn't think you'd want to use that word around your children. Especially with that Ministry function coming up soon. You do have something to wear for that, or is that abysmal ensemble an indication of your taste in fashion?"

Pansy blinked, speechless. Hermione walked away down the hall, ignoring the shrill shrieks of the heartless harpy, the information to undo her held safely in Hermione's pockets.

* * *

Please read and review! Next part should likely come sooner than this one, just one more to go.


	5. Skillful Knowledge Part Three

Title: Hermione's Short Shorts!

Pairings: Various within the Harry Potter world.

Overview: A series of short stories/drabbles in which we watch the world of witches and wizards. Though the main character is Hermione, not all chapters/submissions will be about her.

Disclaimer: Doesn't belong to me, at all. Not in the least. Because if it did belong to me, I would have done things TOTALLY different.

**Skillful Knowledge **

**Part Three - ****Interaction and Departure**

Pairings: Draco/Pansy, Harry/Pansy, Draco/Hermione

* * *

Getting back to her room, Hermione threw the letters onto the bed, and stalked to the window. It had near been a month, and this was the first clue that had seemed to pop up, the only thing she had been able to find out. So much for having access to information that Malfoy didn't. Taking a deep breath, she went to investigate the contents of the letters lying on the bed. Picking one up at random, she found it wasn't addressed specifically to Pansy, instead to an "Abandoned Flower".

_Odd…_ Hermione glanced through it, and was amused – and somewhat disgusted – to find that it was indeed a sickeningly sweet love note – like the ones passed by teenagers at Hogwarts. Didn't have much originality either, all clichéd promises. One line caught her eye though, "How likely would the Poisonous Snake know of our meetings". She rolled her eyes. Poisonous Snake was obviously Malfoy, not too hard to figure that one out – if these notes were indeed to Pansy. In that case, Abandoned Flower would likely be Pansy, seeing as she had the letters, and the names were all in code. Unless Pansy was stealing the notes from someone else. Or they were all fiction. Shaking her head, Hermione looked to the end of the letter, and she found it unsigned.

_Weird… and now it's a dead end._ She dropped the letter, and picked up another, and another, and yet another. All were unsigned. "The hell?! Who doesn't sign their letters?!"

A chuckle from the door, and Hermione turned quickly, nearly falling off the bed. Malfoy was leaning against the doorframe, a sour look on his face. He walked in to stand across the bed from her. "I take it you're finding this as difficult as I was?"

She scratched at her head. "Unfortunately, it seems to be the case. All that I've found out right now is that the individual who wrote this note was meeting with your wife, I don't know when, where, or why, and I don't know for how long. I've only just started looking at these."

He nodded, then cleared his throat awkwardly. "My wife has been complaining about you."

Hermione raised an eyebrow in amused curiosity. "Has she now? And what has the wonderful Pansy had to say about me?"

He shrugged. "The usual jealous girl type things – that you're here to steal my money, or that you have some alternative agenda. It's rather annoying."

"So you're just ignoring what she says?"

He shrugged again, moving slightly further into the room. "It's not as if I actually care what she says. I informed her that you were tutoring the children." If Hermione didn't know Malfoy better, she'd have said that he looked relaxed.

"I'm sure she wasn't too happy with that." She spoke distractedly, reading through the letters.

"She wanted you replaced."

Hermione looked up abruptly at that, regarding the curiously cool expression on Malfoy's face. "And?"

He smirked. "That eager to get away? I told her it was out of the question."

Hermione sighed. "Why are you insisting to keep me here?"

He ignored the question. "I informed her that you were my newest personal assistant, as the last one met a rather… unfortunate end." Malfoy seemed a bit embarrassed, and perhaps even remorseful.

Hermione looked at him shocked. "I'm sorry, say that again?"

"My last assistant met an unfortunate end." He repeated innocently.

"No, not that you dolt. The other part."

A chuckle, accompanied with a slight glare for the insult. "You, Hermione Granger, are my newest personal assistant."

"And where was the part where I agreed to that?" She asked acidly, still in shock at his announcement.

He waved a hand indifferently. "Consider it a gift, a disguise. It'll let you move around more freely."

She coughed, expression sour. "I'm beginning to dislike the looks of your 'gifts' Malfoy. This room may be a 'gift', as would be this job… but they certainly uprooted the rest of my life. I have a feeling that this'll be a bit more than just a simple 'disguise'. Am I correct in this assumption?"

Again, a non-committal gesture. "Likely. Depends on how good you are."

She didn't miss the barely concealed innuendo. "I think I've had just about enough of this game Malfoy. What are you after?"

He was a lot closer to her now, standing a few feet away from her. "I told you what. You find me out whose children you're tutoring, and you're free to go on your way. I'm just thinking you won't want to." His smirk still put her on edge, even nearly a decade after graduating from that school.

"Your ego is still overinflated. I think you should have it checked out." She glared stormily at him, beginning to feel fearful of his proximity. She tried to subtly move away from him.

"Why don't you? Seeing as you're the 'expert' on these matters Granger." He smirked broadly, nearly overtop of her now.

"Isn't there someone else you can bother with your irksome arrogance Malfoy?" Her question was rather plaintive, and came out with more of a tremor than she wanted it to have.

He seemed to be considering it for a moment. For a moment, she hoped that he wasn't still the arrogant annoying prat she hated in Hogwarts. Then, with that same smirk, and an odd twinkle in his eyes, he said, "They're not nearly as entertaining as you."

She groaned, burying her head in her hands. "Look, Malfoy, if you want me to get to the bottom of this, the best thing to do is to leave me be!"

He arched an impossibly elegant eyebrow, simply watching her. He then nodded, accepting her defeat and demand. "We will speak again." His words spoke of a promise that made Hermione shiver in more than fear, but she would not meet his eyes or watch him leave. Only when she heard the wooden door close did she deem it safe to look up. Letting out a shaky sigh, she pulled at her hair in frustration. She could not for the life of her figure out what he was up to, what he was after.

Suppressing the urge to scream, she turned back to the pieces of parchment before her.

* * *

It took several hours – and quite a few breaks to either gag, or laugh – to fully read each and every letter through. Through trial and elimination, she was able to place them in some semblance of order. Several referenced things she couldn't understand – probably because she only had half of the conversation. However, some things were painfully clear. Several of the notes mentioned houses, school, and friends, plus some general events for the whole of the wizarding world – like the defeat of Voldemort. Hermione actually smirked when she saw that name written on paper. Though he was many years gone – may he rot in a hole – very few wizards would actually speak (or write) his name. This narrowed down the list tremendously.

The door creaked, and Hermione looked up. Only when she saw how dark the room had become was she aware of how late it had gotten. Malfoy was again standing in the doorway, the half light making him seem even more like a Veela than usual.

"Uh, hi." She offered a slight smile.

He nodded, and moved to the side of the bed. "Found anything useful?"

"I might know who the writer is." She rubbed at a crick in her neck.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised. "So quickly?"

She nodded. "He gave away hints everywhere – but especially when he was referring to Voldemort's death." It had taken her a while to get used to saying the name, and she watched as Malfoy suppressed a shudder.

"What do you mean?"

Hermione picked up one of the letters. "Here, look. He's one of the only wizards to refer to the monster by name. Only a handful have ever used the name." She had been hoping to get a rise out of him, and was quite disappointed.

Malfoy said nothing, looking pensive. Finally, "Intriguing. Looks like you were worth the chance after all."

Hermione looked at him in shock. "I'm sorry, what?!"

"Dinner's ready." He ignored her comments, instead looking her up and down. "You should really come and eat. I'm sure with all this work you're… hungry."

"Malfoy!" But he had already left the room. She growled in frustration, and shortly thereafter her stomach growled in hunger. Even though he was a prat, he was, for some odd reason, being a considerate prat. With a sigh, she got off the bed, fixed her hair, straightened her clothes, and followed Malfoy to the dinning room. He knew she would come.

The dinning hall was dark when she arrived, the only light from a happily crackling fire the large fireplace. Hermione looked about nervously, and saw Draco lounging against one of the large windows. "Ah, there you are." He smirked at her, then gestured to the table. "Please, eat."

She sat at the table, watching him sceptically, unease filling the pit of her stomach. Then, she carefully began her meal, all the while Draco leant against the window. _Okay, awkwaaaard._

"Hermione…"

"I told you not to call me that." She said immediately, now more out of habit than in actual dislike.

"It is your name, is it not?" He joked.

"That it may be, but that does not mean you get to use it. I told you what you may call me." She glared at him over a slice of crusty white bread.

"Fine then, **Granger**, tell me… what do you plan on doing to prove who the writer is?"

She blinked, and stopped what she was doing entirely. "Uh… Well, I guess I haven't thought of that yet."

Malfoy chuckled. "Ahhh, for a bookworm, you certainly manage to forget important details like that." He smirked, and walked towards her. "How's this, I'm hosting a party next month, for Christmas. Invite him, and I'll catch them in the act. Perfectly reasonable to throw her out if I catch her red-handed, wouldn't you agree?"

Hermione blinked. "Well, I suppose so… But… what about…"

Draco raised an eyebrow. "About what?"

"What… what do you plan on doing with the children?" She got out in a rush, concern hovering on her face.

"Hmmm… I must admit, I'm not entirely sure myself. It really depends on the parent."

"What do you mean, you'd just kick them out?"

"No, of course not." He scoffed at her. "I'd let them choose who they'd rather be with. But, as it seems I have nothing to do with their existence, aside from paying for their bills, I don't see why they should stay here."

"It'd keep you out of the Prophet." She pointed out.

He shrugged noncommittally. "I suppose so. But the story would get out eventually."

"Ugh, you're repulsive!" Hermione got up from the table, and made to leave the room. Faster than she thought possible, he was barring her way.

"Malfoy…" Her voice spoke volumes of her anger, her eyes flashing as she glared up at him.

He didn't move, his eyes boring holes through her soul. Hermione shivered unconsciously, and he ran a finger down her cheek. "You don't think that. I can see it in how you move."

She pushed his hand away, trying to keep a glare on her face. "No, I really do. You don't know me. Now, kindly get out of my way." When he refused to move, she crossed her arms. "Please."

Draco moved fractionally closer to her. "Why?" He breathed into her ear, and she shivered.

"I-I'm tired, I'm going to bed. Please, move." She stepped back as he moved ever closer to her, trying to keep the distance between them.

"You don't want me to move." Malfoy challenged, closing the gap again. "I can see it in your eyes."

"Ha ha, on the contrary, I really do. Whatever you think you're seeing is a reflection of your oversized ego, now, get out of my way!" She tried to move around him, only to find herself pinned against the wall. She looked up at him, licking her lips nervously, her breaths coming in jagged pants.

"Don't lie to me…" He growled out, his hips pushing her into the wall. She swallowed nervously, seeing the lust in his eyes. She brought her hands up as a barrier between their two bodies.

"D-Draco… please. Don't." She weakly tried to push him away from her, but didn't have the strength to budge him.

He blinked in shock to hear her say his first name, and he pulled himself away from her. "Go."

She looked at him, equally as shocked. "What?"

"Just, GO!" Without another thought, she bolted from the room, not stopping until she reached her own. Panting, and out of breath, she slumped against the door. "What the hell was _that_?!"

* * *

The remainder of the week passed relatively uneventfully, both Draco and Hermione giving the other plenty of space, more than plenty of space. By the weekend, Hermione had drummed up enough courage to ask Draco if she could return to her flat to find out the whereabouts of the writer.

He had grunted at her, and then gestured for her to use the fireplace, nose deep in some paperwork at his desk. Just as she hastily got the fireplace, he said, "Make sure you're back by Monday."

"Er, yeah, of course." She nodded anxiously, and then disappeared into the fireplace.

Once she was back in the familiar setting of her flat, Hermione began to feel a bit better. Taking a deep breath in, she went into her kitchen, and made herself a cup of tea. Sitting down on one of the stools that were around the counter, she finally relaxed for the first time since she had been all but kidnapped from her work.

Going over to her phone, Hermione checked it to see if there were any messages on it. Not surprisingly, no one had called. She wasn't even sure why she had bought the phone, but it had seemed like a good idea at the time.

Picking up the small phone book on the table beside the phone, she leafed through until she found the number she was looking for. Placing down her tea, she quickly dialled the number. A few rings, and then, contact.

"Hey. Yeah, we haven't talked in a long while. Uh, I have some time off work, mind if I come see you? Oh, really? Perfect. I'll be there in ten. Same place, right? Kay, alright. See you then." She hung up, a smile on her face. Then, she gathered a few things together, cookies, a few speciality teas, nothing to fancy, and she went to her fireplace.

"Ten Gladiolus Lane." She called out as she dropped the floo powder.

Moments later, she was coughing and hacking as ash fell on her from all sides. She heard a hearty chuckle, and a hand reached out to help her out of the fireplace. "Merlin Harry, d'you never clean this?"

Familiar green eyes sparkled. "I guess I forgot Mione. How you doing? It's been ages."

She gave him a tight hug. "There. Now you're all ashy too." She giggled. "I'm doing alright. Work at the Ministry has been driving me crazy."

Harry clucked his tongue. "Told you that you should find somewhere where they actually appreciate what you do."

Hermione grinned bashfully. "Yeah, I guess. But I yelled at you when you said that, didn't I?"

"Oh yes, that you did, but only a little. Come on in." He moved further into the kitchen. She smiled, and did likewise, sitting on one of the wooden chairs at the table. It was a nice cottage, felt very warm and comforting. She smiled to herself and shook her head. Harry could afford a mansion, but he preferred the tiny cottage in the English country-side.

"What have you been up to lately Harry?"

He walked over with a couple of mugs of tea, and she laid out the cookies she had brought onto the table. "Lately? Ah, not much. Just, been here really. Kept up with talking to some people, read the typical trash in the Prophet… What about you?"

"Working, and that's pretty much all. I was moved from my usual position at the Ministry to do some training. Basically, now I'm responsible to make sure that the newcomers are prepared for their work. It's frustrating." Hermione felt a bit guilty that she wasn't telling Harry everything, but she had a feeling that he wasn't telling her everything either. He really was a terrible liar. She grinned at him, reaching for a cookie. "Have you met anyone recently? I heard rumours…"

He laughed awkwardly. "Me? Naaaah, not really." His face was turning redder by the second. He caught her eye, and looked down bashfully. "Well, I mean, kinda. But, no. Look, it's complicated."

She cocked her head slightly to the side, a smile on her face. "What do you mean? You can tell me."

He sighed. "Look, the woman I love… she's married to a man she hates. She's only with him because of what her father wants. Her husband ignores her, hates the children, I… I don't know. Apparently she thinks that the kids are more likely to be mine than his, which is kinda scary. I never met them before Mione."

"Kids? Whoa, whoa. Hold on here Harry. What is going on?"

"I… er, we, kinda, well… I love her, okay?! And uh, the usual thing happened, and well, she was pregnant. And then it happened again a couple of years later."

Hermione looked at him, completely shocked. "How long has this been going on?"

"Er, since before she married him…" Harry blushed.

"Oh Merlin… Does the husband know?"

"He suspects… Apparently he recently brought someone in under the guise of his new personal assistant to help him figure out what's going on. It's… it's all messed up Mione. Do you think you could help?"

"Er, well, what do you want?"

"I want to help her run away. She says that he's hosting a party for Christmas, and a bunch of people are invited from the Ministry. Do you think you could somehow get me in?"

"Well, I guess I could try, but you'd hafta tell me who the husband is, there's a lot of fancy Christmas parties."

"Not like this one. There is never a Christmas party like the Malfoy Christmas parties."

Hermione choked on her cookie. _Oh, Harry, you're putting me in an impossibly bad situation... _"Harry, he'll kill you if he finds out!"

"That's why I need you there. Distract him, break a vase, do something to keep him out of my hair."

She looked at his hair. "I doubt anyone would notice a person in your hair Harry, but, yeah, I'll see what I can do."

He grinned, and half-heartedly flattened his hair with a hand. "Thanks Mione, I knew I could count on you."

Hermione smiled, a guilty feeling growing in the pit of her stomach. "So… how's Ron?"

* * *

It was the night of the Christmas party. A month had passed, and Hermione was shocked at her near seamless transition as a member of the Malfoy staff. She had been working extremely hard, both as a tutor, and as Malfoy's personal assistant, and was feeling oddly proud of her accomplishments. The amount of faith and trust that was placed in her as an assistant made her feel awkward, but never once did she do anything which would cause Malfoy harm, despite the fact that she in no way liked him in the slightest. It had been left up to Hermione to deal with the invitees to the party. She had told Malfoy that in addition to the usual guests, she had handled inviting all those who she suspected to be involved with Pansy, and then she'd narrow it down by observing the interactions between the suspects and Pansy. He had growled at her, but acquiesced to her plan.

And now, she was getting dressed in her room, fidgeting with some jewellery that had been leant to her by Malfoy. She had a feeling that had he had seen the guest list before the party, he would have cancelled it outright, regardless of appearances. Currently, she was fearing his wrath when he did see the guests arriving.

A sound at the door caused her to jump. Hermione turned about to see Lucian standing at the door. "Miss Hermione…"

"Lucian! You scared me! What are you doing here, aren't you supposed to be asleep?"

"I… I had a bad dream Miss Hermione."

"Ohhh, come here." She knelt down as the little boy ran over to her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders tightly.

"It was about daddy!" He rushed out, tears falling down his face. "He… he said tha' me and Cici-"

"Lucian…"

"Oh, right. That Cici and I, we weren't really his kids, an'… an' we had to leave!"

Hermione's heart went out to the boy. He had the Sight. Steeling herself for yet another lie, she looked down at the distraught boy and ruffled his hair affectionately. "I'm sure it was just a dream Luc. Your dad wouldn't just kick you out, he loves you." He giggled at the use of the nickname she had made up for him, and Hermione smiled. "Now, c'mon. Let's get you back to bed before your dad finds you here, alright?"

"Yeah!" He grinned in his madcap way, reminding Hermione of a good friend. She shook her head, putting the necklace she had been fighting with down on the dresser. "Alrighty, lead the way."

Of course, getting Lucian back to his room required switching wings of the manor, which required going through the main foyer. Which meant that both herself and Lucian would be in plain sight of Malfoy.

_Uh, shit._

Draco Malfoy was in the process of greeting a few notable guests in the front foyer when, from the corner of his eye, he spotted Hermione on the stair. That alone would have caught his attention – _what is she wearing? Why couldn't she have put that on in Hogwarts? _– but also, she was with his son. His son who was supposed to be asleep hours ago. Suppressing the urge to growl, Malfoy excused himself from conversation, and headed up the stairs to follow his most unruly assistant, neatly missing the entrance of Ronald Weasley with Lavender Brown, Harry Potter, and Ginevra Weasley with an Australian wizard.

Hermione had successfully managed to get Lucian to sleep without rising any notice. Thanking Merlin, she stepped out into the hallway – directly into Malfoy's arms.

"Uh… uh… uh… A-aren't you-?"

"I wanted to see what was happening with Lucian." His voice and expression gave nothing away.

"Oh." Hermione squirmed slightly, trying to move away from Malfoy. "He had a bad dream."

Malfoy sighed. "That explains his questions this morning." Hermione looked at him curiously, but Malfoy shook his head. "Come, downstairs. It's nearly time for dinner." He didn't wait for a reply as he walked back down the hallway.

_I wonder why he's not mad… does he not know?_

Sighing, Hermione followed Malfoy, hoping that she wouldn't be killed before the end of the night.

* * *

Most of the guests had moved into the banquet room, and were sitting down at the assigned tables. Hermione had a hand in that as well, and though she was forced to share a table with Malfoy – on his right side no less – she had also been able to put in a few guest of her own – like Ginny. Which may not have been such a good idea, as Malfoy seemed to have a bit of trouble to keep his face impassive. After surveying the room, he had given her a tight lipped glare which implied she was in for a **lot** of trouble later. Hermione winced, but slid into the seat beside Ginny, grinning as after a short and awkward silence, Ginny had started chatting with her again like they had before the war.

Dinner was served gradually, starting with soup and moving to dessert with little issue. It was once the dancing began that things started to get interesting.

As lord of the manor, Draco had gone up first with his wife, and several other couples followed suit. All the while Pansy danced with Draco, Hermione could see that her eyes were on Harry. Hermione had sighed, rubbing her temples with a hand. Not matter what she would do, someone would hate her. Hopefully not permanently. And hopefully not enough to want to harm her for the deception.

The partners changed, and surprisingly Ron came over to ask Hermione to dance. Warily, she accepted.

"Her… mione. Look, I… didn't mean to hurt you, and I'm rubbish with apologies, but, I – I'magitandI'msorry."

Hermione looked at Ron, flabbergasted for a moment. "I… It's okay. So long as you're happy, then I'll be happy too Ronald." She chuckled. "Anyway, I always kinda thought of you as a brother… I've missed you."

"Me too. So… we're good?"

"Yeah." She grinned at him, and walked to the edge of the dance floor. "Go find Lavender, and dance the night away, okay?"

"Okay. Thanks Hermione! You're the best."

She laughed when she saw his happy grin. _Maybe everything's not ruined…_

Her grin faded when she saw Harry sitting over with Ginny. They were talking, and it looked pretty intense. After a couple of minutes, Ginny got up, crying, and ran out of the room. Harry looked distraught. Hermione made her way through the mess of chairs and tables to see him.

"Are you … alright?"

"I had to tell her… I had to say that I found someone new."

"Oh, Harry…"

"She still loves me. And I don't." Hermione didn't know what to say. Harry continued in the silence. "I've got to get her out of here. She's miserable Hermione. Absolutely miserable."

"What d'you plan on doing Harry?"

"Well, I brought the cloak, and I was thinking we could get out under that."

"Let me go talk to her."

"Really?"

"Yeah, I'll let her know."

"Thanks Hermione! You're the best!"

The feeling of guilt grew as Harry hugged her. _Yeah. They all seem to be saying that Harry._ Hermione walked over to Pansy who was reclining on a couch near the punch bowl. "A word, if I may, Missus Malfoy?"

A bitter glare was sent her way, but Pansy never the less got up and followed Hermione into the foyer. "What do you-?"

"I know."

"What?"

Hermione took in a deep breath. "I know about the children. I know about your secret lover. I know he's here tonight. I know because I invited him. I know that you plan on running away with him, and I know that he wants me to help you. What I don't know, what I need to know, is if you're actually a decent human being Pansy, because if you're not, I will turn you over to Draco so fast your head will spin. What he deserves… is a human being. And if you're only going to hurt him, and take his money, like you did with Malfoy, then I'm not going to help you."

Pansy was at a loss for words. "I… I'm… I don't know what to say. I always thought you only wanted to hurt me. They said you had a falling out with him. I didn't think you'd ever want to help."

"Yeah, well, if your husband finds out I did, it's my head on the chopping block, along with yours, and Harry's."

"I… I know. I wish I had seen him sooner."

"You've seen him since you were eleven!"

"No… no, I haven't. Otherwise I'd have never married Draco." Pansy looked genuinely remorseful, and Hermione again felt sorrow for this odd, dysfunctional family. Then, Pansy shook her head. "Come. If you're going to help me, you're going to have to watch my husband. I'll speak with Harry."

Returning to the banquet hall, Hermione found Malfoy sending her puzzled looks. With a resigned sigh, she moved to his side.

"What was that about?"

"I was confronting her about her secret lover."

"And?"

"Nothing particularly useful."

"Hmph. Didn't expect her to come out and tell you though. Have you figured out from the 'guest list' who they might be?" His expression was neutral, but the scathing contempt was enough to let Hermione know that Malfoy was not amused.

"Uh, well, sorta… I'm getting close. She's avoided both of them so far…"

"So why Ginevra Weasley?"

"Uh, well, kinda as my guest."

"I see." He remained watching the guests. "Listen Miss Granger, and listen well. Never pull that sort of a trick on me again." His voice was cold. He looked at her frightened expression, and he softened slightly. "If you want to see a friend, just go see them. Don't trick me. I don't take kindly to being anyone's fool. I am no plaything."

Hermione gluped, and nodded quickly.

"Now, the bigger question right now would be… where is my wife? And where is Mister Potter?"

Hermione's eye grew wide when she looked about to see them both gone.

"Well then, it would appear our trap is set. Coming?"

"Where?"

"Her room, where else? She's not going to leave without at least a few trinkets she believes she can't part with."

Again Hermione was struck with what a jerk Malfoy really was, but followed him anyway, up the stairs, down the hall, right to the doorway where he kicked down the door.

Inside stood both his wife, and Harry Potter.

"Why am I not surprised?" He quipped, a bitter smile gracing his lips.

Hermione looked at them helplessly, and Harry shook his head.

"I had hoped not to get you involved in this Malfoy."

"How could you not?! That's my wife!"

"I never wanted-"

"If you value your life Pansy, I'd stay out of this." Draco warned his astonished looking wife. "Alright Potter, what exactly do you think you're doing?"

"Leaving."

"With Pansy?"

"With Pansy."

"And if I get in your way?"

"I'll hex you into next week."

"Boys! Please!"

"Stay out of this Hermione!" They shouted in unison, eyeing each other warily. Draco was the first to break the tension. "Are the children yours?"

"I think so. I… for what it's worth, I didn't mean it to happen."

"Hmph. Little consolidation." Draco stroked his chin. "However… I doubt I'd just get away with killing boy wonder, and my wife. So, what should we do about this?"

Harry cleared his throat. "Let us leave, and you'll never see either of us again. Well, save for at Hogwarts for the children."

"They think I'm their father."

"Lucian suspects something…" Hermione interjected.

"Hermione, stay out of this." Draco returned his attention to Harry and Pansy. "I'll let you leave – provided you never speak of this to another soul. But the children… that's complicated."

"What do you propose?"

"Let them stay here until they've adjusted. Then they can live with their mother… and you." He grudgingly added the last bit.

Harry nodded. "Sounds good. I'll agree to those terms."

"Good. Now get the fuck out of my house."

* * *

The morning after the Christmas Ball came like a bad hangover. Hermione rolled out of bed, and nearly fell on her face. She heard a dry chuckle from the doorway, and she groggily looked up, not surprised to find Draco standing there.

"Uh. It's too early. Go away." She turned toward the bath room, rubbing her face with her hands.

"I can wait." She ignored him, closing the door to the bathroom a little more forcibly than she intended to.

After showering, she pulled a towel around her, and opened the door a crack, looking about her room nervously. Finding Malfoy nowhere in sight, she sighed with relief, and opened the door. A moment later, she shrieked and hid herself back into the bathroom. "What are you doing in here?!"

"I said I could wait."

"I didn't think you meant it!" He chuckled, and she came out, pinning him with a glare. "I swear, if you try anything…" Malfoy held up his hands in defeat, and Hermione moved over to the closet, never taking her eyes off of him. Reaching the closet, she ducked inside, and quickly got dressed. Reappearing, she grabbed the towel off the floor and threw it into the bathroom.

"Alright, why are you here?" She stood in front of him in jeans and a t-shirt, arms akimbo, a mixture of annoyance and curiosity flickering across her face.

"Because I don't know where to go next."

Hermione was momentarily taken aback by the brutal honesty. "W-what do you mean?"

He sighed. "For such a bright witch… Look, I've lost my wife and kids in a single stroke to a guy I've at least had distain for since he stood me up in our first year. Since I was eleven."

"Wait, stood you up? Are you-?"

"Hermione! Not the time! And no, I could show you that I most definitely am not!"

"Okay, okay, just asking. Don't get your knickers in a twist!"

"Well don't ask. And leave my knickers out of this." He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I've decided not to break it to them right away. And they can still come visit me whenever they want – I guess I'd be like … a foster dad." He shook his head. "I'm just glad, for her sake, that neither of our fathers are around. This wouldn't go over well."

Hermione couldn't find any words to say, so she just looked at him. He was in his mid-twenties, but looked decades older right now. He looked completely broken, and she was surprised that she didn't find herself wondering why he came to her, now, when he was like that. _But then again, he's not the same man who came into the Ministry and stole me away from my job…_ She sighed, catching Malfoy's attention. "Are you sincerely alright with this? Is it what you want?"

"I never loved her. I wouldn't mind to see her go… but the children…"

She nodded, and spoke softly, moving closer to him. "But they're not yours Draco…"

"I know." He whispered. "I know."

* * *

And that's a wrap! Please review!


	6. Closeted Shenanigans

Title: Hermione's Short Shorts!

Pairings: Various within the Harry Potter world.

Overview: A series of short stories/drabbles in which we watch the world of witches and wizards. Though the main character is Hermione, not all chapters/submissions will be about her.

Disclaimer: As I'm not ridiculously rich with a successful book and film franchise, you should know that this stuff ain't mine.

A/N: So, it's been a while! This piece has been hanging around in my head since I read some complaints about general HP fiction with Harry and Draco as the main pairing. I've never tried any slash, and the Harry/Draco pairing is the most appealing to me. This particular one-shot will be told from Hermione's point of view, thus keeping with the Hermione centric collect of stories. If it's not your cup of tea, don't read it, I certainly won't hold it against you.

**Closeted Shenanigans**

Pairings: Draco/Harry

* * *

Hermione sighed, rubbing at her eyes in frustration. Ron and Harry may think that her unhealthy devotion to her studies meant that she adored them, but that wasn't entirely the case. She just wanted to prove herself the best in everything she did. This usually meant having a rigorous study schedule that would leave any normal student cowering in a corner, mortally afraid of all text books for the next year to come. She smiled to herself – her parents had always said that she grew more resilient in the face of adversity.

However, it was now nearly two in the morning, and studying for N.E.W.T.s was exhausting to begin with. Her stomach grumbled, and she absently wondered when she had last eaten. It would have had to have been a while, since she couldn't remember the last time she had told Ron to use a fork instead of his fingers, or chastised Harry about wiping his fingers on the tablecloth.

Dropping her quill on her parchment, she stretched, wincing as her muscles protested the movement. The best thing about exams was that her current room mate was nowhere to be seen, which was a boon in itself. Though he had mellowed from first year, he was still an unbelievable prat, and the longer he stayed squirreled away in his room, the better.

With heavy steps she walked down the stairs, passing through the darkened common room area and into the kitchenette. She pulled out a pre-sliced bagel from the bread keeper and dropped it into the toaster, noting glumly that eating right before bed usually resulted in weight gain. The machine ticked happily away, dinging as the toasted bagel popped out. Reaching into the fridge, she pulled out jam and butter, spreading both thickly on the bagel. Putting everything away, she headed back up the stairs, but paused on the landing when she heard conversation coming from Malfoy's room. _'That's odd – he usually likes his "beauty sleep".'_ Unable to help herself, Hermione inched closer to the closed door.  
"… and you know that you want me," came a muffled version of the drawl that Hermione had grown accustomed to over the past four months. She rolled her eyes, but didn't stop listening. There was a muffled reply, a voice she couldn't identify. Malfoy spoke again. "No one is going to find out! Stop acting like a scared first year and get your ass down here."

Hermione frowned – they had been told explicitly when they moved into the Head Dorms that they were not allowed to invite people into their rooms, especially after hours. Curiosity overruled her need to follow the rules, and she moved closer to the door, hoping to catch whatever the other party was saying.

"What do you mean no? Don't you walk away – get back here! Oh, you are **so** cut off!"

Hermione couldn't help herself, she giggled. She covered her mouth and dashed back into her room when she heard Malfoy moving toward the door. Once back in her room, she noticed that she only had half a bagel on her plate.

"Why is there a bagel on the floor?" Malfoy asked out in the hallway.

She poked her head out of her room, trying her hardest not to look guilty. "Um, house elves?"

He quirked an eyebrow, but didn't say anything, electing instead to go back into his room. She heard the door lock a moment later and she sighed, closing the door to her room.

* * *

The next morning was grey and cool without being rainy. Hermione was glad it was Saturday, and that most people would be at Hogsmeade instead of being in the library – that, and it was several months before the exams were scheduled to start. It would be nice to get out of her room for studying. As she went down to the kitchenette she was surprised to see Malfoy sitting on one of the couches in the main room. She sent him a slight nod and got herself a bowl of cereal. They had mutually agreed upon a non-aggravation policy – if they didn't talk to each other, then neither of them would lose the position.

"We have patrol later tonight," he mentioned as he started back up to his room.

"At nine," she confirmed. "I'm going to the library."

He grunted, and the door shut with a click. Hermione washed her dishes, leaving them in the drying rack before grabbing her book bag and leaving the room.

* * *

Her assumption about lack of students in the library had been incorrect. As it turned out, both Snape and McGonagall were feeling particularly vindictive, and had assigned a deadline for a very long paper on the Monday after the Hogsmeade trip. Frustrated by the inane chatter that even Ms. Pince could subdue, Hermione had left the library in a huff, muttering under her breath about the lack of professionalism in students. Grumbling the password to the painting that sealed the entrance, she stomped up the stairs, only pausing when she heard the curses coming from Malfoy's room, catching the glimpse of someone before the door was hastily shut. Curious, she knocked on the door.

Moment's later, Malfoy's fair head popped out of the door. "What?"

"Is everything okay?"

"Yes, yes it's fine. Just go away." He tried to shut the door when she saw a Gryffindor scarf on the floor.

"A Gryffindor?"

Malfoy visibly winced. "Tell anyone, and I'll make your life hell." There was a mutter from inside the room. "Shut up! No one asked you!" He yelled back inside, allowing Hermione a better look.

"Are those…"

"You saw nothing!" The door slammed shut in her face.

Amused, she put her bag away in her room, eye glued on the stairs. She was determined to see who was hiding in Malfoy's room.

* * *

An hour passed, and Malfoy edges down the stairs. "Are you going to tell me who was visiting?" She called out from her room. She had the pleasure of seeing him wince again.

"Fuck off," he growled, stomping down the stairs.

Hermione followed him. She had seen enough of his bad humour to know that this was nothing serious. "Well, she's going to have to come down sometime," she pointed out pleasantly.

"There's no one in my room."

"What?"

He waved a hand. "Go check yourself. No one in there."

Sceptical, she looked into his room. "Okay, what did you do, hide her in the closet?"

Malfoy snickered. "No Granger."

"Don't mock me. I will find out who it is."

"Sure you will. Don't spend so much time on it you forget to come patrol."

She stuck her tongue out at him.

* * *

"Was it a second year?"

"Oh for the love of – Granger! Drop it!"

Wandering the halls was always more fun when you could harass your roommate. They were lucky that it was so late – if anyone else in the school saw them bickering like this, rumours would get around, and everything would be shot to hell.

"Okay, that's a definite no. That leaves first years, and seventh years. But I thought you'd gotten all of the seventh year Gryffindor girls."

He sighed. "With exceptions, clearly."

"Well, yes, but you're an ass, and I wouldn't want to fuck you anyway."

"What?"

"I don't like blondes." She shrugged.

"And you wouldn't have sex with me because of that?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Merlin's beard – you're just as superficial as everyone else!" He declared in astonishment.

She gave him a look. "I resent that."

He continued as if he hadn't heard. "I can't fucking believe it! You are like every other girl."

"Sod off Ferret."

He chuckled. "Same to you beaver-teeth."

"Hey!" She glared, then relented. "Well, I suppose it's fair."

"Everything's clear here, let's get to bed."

"Are you coming on to me?" She joked.

"For fuck's sake Granger, don't make me sick."

"Ponce."

He snorted. "Book-worm"

"Peroxide-blonde."

"Oh, that wounds me. This is all natural I'll have you know." They stopped in front of the portrait.

She laughed. "With the amount of beauty products in the bathroom, I'd doubt it."

"Get to bed Granger. Your insults are weak."

"Password?" The painting asked.

"Mandrake Shriek," they replied in unison. The portrait swung outward and allowed them admittance into the room. Malfoy disappeared into the kitchen, and Hermione went straight to the shower.

* * *

The next morning, Hermione allowed herself the luxury of sleeping in. That, and she couldn't be bothered to get up when her alarm went off the first time. Even workaholics could be lazy sometimes. She stretched, and walked into the shared bathroom, too groggy to notice that the shower was running. When she did notice, she moved to leave, but noticed there were two people in the shower stall.

Malfoy noticed her standing there. "Merlin!"

"Shit!" shouted a very familiar male voice, and Hermione gaped.

"Harry?"

"Fuck."


	7. Why Hermione Granger? Part One

A/N: I was watching "A Very Potter Musical", and heard "Danger Granger". It inspired this little ficlette.

* * *

Title: Hermione's Short Shorts!

Pairings: Various within the Harry Potter world.

Overview: A series of short stories/drabbles in which we watch the world of witches and wizards. Though the main character is Hermione, not all chapters/submissions will be about her.

Disclaimer: None of this is mine.

* * *

**Why Hermione Granger?**

**Part One: A Problem With Authority**

Pairing: Draco/Hermione

* * *

I've never been very good at doing what I'm supposed to. I was supposed to be the best wizard in class. That didn't happen – stupid know-it-all witch got that instead. I was supposed to win the house cup. That almost happened, and then bloody Harry Potter had to go and ruin it. Or was that Longbottom? Whatever. It doesn't matter.

I was supposed to fall in love with Pansy Parkinson. That absolutely didn't happen. It's not that she's bad looking, or smells, or is a bitch – though she can be a royal bitch when she wants to. Don't get me wrong, the rumours are true, we have, and frequently do, share a bed; but having sex with her is just isn't any good. And it's not like you can tell the girl that you can't just lie there and do nothing. Dealing with one of her bitch-fits isn't worth the pain.

It looks like somewhere along the way I seem to have picked up quite the defiance for authority.

That isn't my problem though. No, my problem happens to be a buck-toothed, bushy-haired, know-it-all pain in my ass. A buck-toothed, bushy-haired, know-it-all bookworm who couldn't stay frumpy, and is determined to make my every waking moment frustrating. And some of my non-waking moments too, but that's more than just frustration.

And she doesn't have a clue.

How can she be so oblivious? I'd think it's pretty obvious – her friend Wesley does the same thing; tease her relentlessly, deny her affections… I don't think he's admitted his feelings yet, but it's so obvious. Everyone in Hogwarts knows what's going to happen.

I'd think that girls would know by now that when a boy teases a girl, it means the boy fancies the girl. Only different between Wesley and me is that she doesn't seem to have any feelings for me. I swear I've seen her looking at me… My imagination, I'm sure. No, she has to know by now. She's the brightest witch of her age for Merlin's sake!

Her age. My age. Why does no one notice that I'm right behind her in all our classes? She may be the brightest, but I'm a narrow second! How does she manage it? She's not even from a wizarding family, and yet... That in itself is a problem.

If only she had been pure-blood. Then none of this would be a problem. Merlin, I think father would be willing to accept a half-blood – no, what am I saying? He'd beat me for even thinking that.

Once again, defying authority.

I can't help it though. If she hadn't turned out to clean up so nice – if she hadn't stood up to me over and over again… what is with that girl? Does she not understand that she's supposed to … supposed to bow down to the pure-bloods, and be subservient to men – she's not supposed to oppose me at every turn! She's not supposed to be better than me! I want her! I want her like I've never wanted any woman, and I don't even get it. Why did it have to be her? Why Hermione Granger?


End file.
